Fragments Of A Lost Star
by SQUIWREL
Summary: Hermione is lost as she finds out her true parentage. She desperately tries to find herself as her friends and loved ones turn on her. An unlikely person saves her; and himself from the all consuming darkness of their new found world.
1. Hope Sucks

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of it's characters. All rights belong to J.K. Rowling. Believe me if I owned them I wouldn't be doing this._

The worst phrase Hermione Granger thought she had ever heard in her short 18 year old lifespan was "You don't know what you've got until it's gone."

She thought it was an incredibly stupid thing to say. What if the person already knew what they had and it was taken away from them any way? Does that make that person's pain any less valid? Does it somehow make everything better when someone tells you that stupid overused, clichéd phrase?

No

Of course not.

Pain is pain. There was no way to measure it against another person's. And the fact that someone would trivialize and reduce it into a meaningless nine-word sentence made her blood practically boil. What did other people know about her pain? Did other people grow up thinking that their parents were loving and honest people only to find out they were merely pawns in an overall hideously overused plot?

No she would say that the average human being did not experience that particular event in their lifetime.

Did other people unknowingly start fighting in a war when they were merely a child?

Nope-she couldn't think of a single normal person that did that either.

….

You don't know what you've got until it's gone.

Godric, what an absolutely _deplorable_ thing to say to someone who had lost something important to him or her.

In this particular instance, Hermione Granger had felt like she had lost _everything_.

The war had been hell-like all wars are. But her side had emerged victorious and the light had defeated the dark. Voldemort was dead and most death eaters had been sentenced to Azkaban or stripped of their magic and banned from the Magical world. Her best friends had survived and she even saw a glimmering shimmer of a romance with the boy that she had harbored a secret crush on for years. For the first time in years, during those first few days after the battle of Hogwarts-Hermione felt something she hadn't in a very long time. Hope.

Hope for a brighter future for her friends-especially Harry. She could think of no better person who deserved a happy life than her best friend.

Hope for Ron to admit that he had felt the same for her, which she had for him for all these years.

Hope for muggle born acceptance in the magical community to be unilateral. Rather than just a "radical idea"

And hope for her. That she could finally be at peace and accepted and loved in a world that she had loved with all of her being.

But much like the despicable aforementioned phrase. Hermione had learned that hope was now her least favorite word. It was an awful emotion that she never wished to feel again. Her hope had shattered her in these past 3 months of summer. Nothing would ever be the same again.

…

At least for her they wouldn't for Hermione.

Nothing would be good again.

Everything was lost.

…

Hermione flicked the ashes of her cigarette to the cement as she sat on a lone bench in the middle of muggle London. All the while pondering these dark thoughts that seeped into her mind.

 _Hope and lies. Hope and lies._

She lifted her petite hand to her mouth and took a long and deep drag of the lit poison that rested between her fingers. Letting the hot smoke fill her lungs, reveling in the burning in her chest. She looked back at the past years of her life. All her sacrifices for the greater good seemed, well, _wasted_. Her childhood had been sacrificed to war and suffering-and there was no getting it back. Here she was, an 18-year-old young woman and she honestly couldn't think of a single time in the past 5 years where she wasn't overtly concerned with her safety.

Merlin- this _fucking sucks_.

She took another drag of her cigarette. She knew it was a poisonous awful _disgusting_ habit. And if Hermione of a year ago could see what she was presently doing, she most likely would have thrown a hissy fit and launched into a long and tedious lecture about lung health.

 _Predictable_ that's what she was. Horribly and horrifically _predictable_ , sure she knew herself better than anyone but honestly thoughts like these were just annoying.

"Miss?" A sharp voice behind her snapped her out of her depressing inner monologue. Hermione glanced over her shoulder to find a middle-aged woman glaring at her. "You know there is no smoking here?" The woman asked, raising an overgrown eyebrow and pursing her wrinkled thin lips.

Hermione merely shrugged and took another drag of her cigarette to let the woman know she didn't care.

"It's a horrible disgusting habit you know!" The woman's exclaimed shrilly. Hermione winced, knowing that a few months ago she would have said the exact same thing.

"Yes, I know." Hermione agreed quietly. She took another drag and exhaled slowly. "But I don't honestly care." She turned around to let the woman know she was done with the conversation. She heard a loud scoff and then mumbling about " _lack of respect"_ and _"rotten kids these days"_

Again. Hermione found that she didn't care.

She didn't care about much these days.

And she felt freer than she had in years.

Flicking the last of her now smoldering cigarette to the ground. She stood up, smirked, and turned right. Towards King's Cross

.

The train should be boarding any minute now.

Now to see if anyone dared to mess with Hermione Granger, or more accurately due to recent revelations-Hermione Riddle.

A/N: I know this plot is horrifically overused but trust me this will be worth it!. Please review I want to know if this sucks! This story will be 50 chapters long and updates are weekly!

Love ya!

-S


	2. Petrified

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or it's characters. But you probably already knew that._

 _Chapter 2: Petrified._

Nervous is wouldn't be the right adjective to describe how Draco Malfoy was feeling about returning to school for his 7th, well 8th, year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Panic-Stricken

Petrified

Terror-Filled

Etc. etc.

Now _those_ felt like more appropriate terms to describe how he was feeling right now.

Standing alone in the middle of platform 9 3/4, he was practically shaking with fear. He would never admit that he felt these feelings out loud of course, but it didn't mean he didn't feel them.

He knew that this year wouldn't be like his previous (he hoped to bloody Merlin it was nothing like his sixth year). He knew that the Malfoy name no longer carried the prestige and power it once did in the wizarding community, and he was under no assumption that his classmates would welcome him back with open arms.

He didn't blame them. Really, he didn't. His family, namely the former Malfoy patriarch, had done horrible and dehumanizing things in the name of a "pure" society. And they had lost.

Lost everything.

Quite literally, actually.

The Malfoy fortune, except for a small percentage, had been depleted when the Wizengamot had ordered them to pay over 3 _million_ gallons, each, as fines for "war crimes". His father had been hauled away to Azkaban to serve out a ten-year sentence.

How he got out of a life sentence, Draco would never know. Nor did he think he really wanted to.

His mother had been put on house-arrest. Permanently. In a small-muggle community-so she could learn _tolerance_. Her magic and wand stripped away from her.

And their ancient family manor was now in the possession of the Ministry, most likely to be torn apart when the Aurors went looking for dark magic artifacts.

And Draco had been sentenced to a 3 year house arrest term. _After_ he completed his final year at Hogwarts. And a 5 month "extra curricular" course on Muggle lifestyles and lessons. Or as Draco called it the "Muggle Crash Course".

Because the Wizengamot had decided since he was barely out of boyhood, it would do best if Draco finished his education so after his sentence was completed, he would return as a "functioning member of Wizarding society."

 _Yeah no…three years is definitely not enough time for me to be a "functioning" member of anything._ He had thought dryly when his sentence had been read to him.

In short. Draco Malfoy knew that his life-at 17 years-was basically over.

He glanced around the crowded platform, noticing that it was decidedly emptier than it had been in previous years. But there were still families dropping off their wide-eyed first years and anxious second years. He noticed a host of former order members entering the Hogwarts Express-trailed by lesser known Gryffindors. There were also a slew of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs shuffling onto the locomotive. But as grey his eyes scanned the small crowd, he saw no familiar flashes of green and silver.

So-no Slytherin's.

 _Grand_ He thought to himself. _Might as well start my isolation early, in the dungeons no less. How fitting._

Running a pale hand through his equally pale hair, he let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. It was only one year. He could do this and then three years of blissful peace and solitude.

He could do this even if it killed him.

Actually the more he thought about it, it might actually kill him. Considering the amount of hatred he would undoubtedly be getting from his fellow students.

"Fuck" He hissed to himself as the whistle blew. Signaling the last students to board the train. He knew that there was no more time to stall the inevitable.

Standing up as straight as his body would allow. He held his head up high as he grabbed his trunk and boarded the train. His gut twisting with anxiety as he entered the familiar train.

Draco thought he might actually throw up.

When he _finally_ found an empty compartment, far away from other students. He opened it and cast quick locking and silencing charms when he slipped inside. He didn't need the hatred to start early on. If he could have these five measly hours of peace, then he would take them.

After throwing his trunk in the luggage rack above the seat. He slunk down into the cushioned seat and put his head in his hands.

 _One year Draco, that's all you need to do._

 _One year._

 _9 months really._

 _That's barely any time at all when you think about it._

He chanted his soothing mantra in his head, trying to convince himself that he could in fact get through this year _alive_. He didn't notice the familiar bushy head of hair stroll past his compartment-alone. Pausing when they saw who occupied it.

If he had, he would have seen the same look of trepidation in her amber colored eyes as she observed him.

He would have seen the same look of fear echoed on her heart shaped face.

But most of all he would of seen the look of understanding. The look- that if he had seen it-would have made him pause and stare back.

But alas he did not see any of these things.

Not yet anyway.

 _A/N:_ Aannnnd sorry I was too excited to introduce Draco to the story so I uploaded this one as well. The next chapter is a goodie and it explains a little of Hermione's summer. And some familiar characters come in!. Please review- and don't be shy! If my writing sucks I want to know! Thanks for reading

Love ya!-S


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